Penmarric (62 page)

Read Penmarric Online

Authors: Susan Howatch

“You be quiet!” shouted Roslyn. “I loved your mother! She married me because she thought she didn’t want to be a lady any more, but when she found herself a farmer’s wife she didn’t like it any better than she liked being a lady at Penmarric! She was a bad wife to me, always grumbling and complaining and never having the house straight or the cooking right and the milk always going sour in the dairy—”

“—because you wouldn’t pay for more servants! You—with all the money she gave you when you married her! You wanted her to be a household drudge like Uncle Jared’s wife with a baby every year and—”

“You shut your cursed mouth about a baby every year and go down on your knees to thank God you were born at all! She didn’t want any babies! She wouldn’t even give me a son! All I got was one miserable daughter and after that she says she’s never going to have no more children again-—”

“—because she didn’t want to bring any more daughters into the world and have to listen to you moaning because they weren’t boys! She knew the kind of man you were! How do you think I felt, not knowing why you never seemed to show any spark of affection for me? I thought I was ugly, afflicted with some terrible defect. Do you imagine I didn’t want to get out of your horrible house? I only stayed there for Mother’s sake and once she was in her grave I was thankful to leave it. You can keep your ill-gotten money and your grand farmhouse and your prosperous lands! I don’t want any of them. I’ve had enough of you—more than enough—and if you don’t want to see me or speak to me again, that’s the best news I could ever wish to hear.”

We all began to speak at once, Hugh threatening him with violence, I shouting at him to get off my land, my mother telling him he should be ashamed of treating his own flesh and blood so unkindly. He listened to no one. Instead he spat on the floor, told us he hoped we’d be damned for all eternity and stalked out into the yard to his horse.

Rebecca burst into tears.

While Hugh and my mother fussed around her I went out to the yard after Roslyn, but he was already riding off over the moors to Morvah; all I could do was stand and watch him till he disappeared from sight.

After this incident Hugh and Rebecca stayed two weeks longer under my mother’s roof and then coaxed my father to let them stay at Penmarric while their cottage was being made habitable. I was relieved to see them go. I was tired of returning from the mine each night and being obliged to waste the evening talking to Hugh. I had nothing to say to Rebecca, and the atmosphere emanating from the pair began to be wearisome. I was bored with all their intimate smiles and meaningful looks and exasperated when I was kept awake at night. My mother had lent them her bedroom, which was the only room in the house with a double bed, and as I had the room next door all the louder accompaniments of sexual intercourse were audible to me. I couldn’t have cared less how often Hugh wanted to make love to his wife, but I didn’t see why I should have to lose sleep on account of his extended honeymoon.

To my surprise my mother was also relieved when they moved from the farm to Penmarric.

“I was becoming irritated with Rebecca,” she confessed. “We nearly quarreled at least twice. You know, I don’t believe she’s half as meek and mild as she would like us to think she is. The more I see of her the more willful and opinionated she becomes. If Hugh’s not firm with her from the beginning he’s going to find her quite a handful later on.”

“Personally,” I said, “I think she’s the one who’s going to find her partner a handful. How on earth is he going to find the money to support them? He shows no inclination at all to earn a living and do an honest day’s work.”

But I misjudged him. The next morning I was sitting at my office desk in my hut near the count house and trying to sift through a mountain of paperwork which the purser, Walter Hubert, had said wasn’t truly “within his province.” It wasn’t within mine either, but Walter was overworked and I’d refused his request for a clerk in order to economize, so I had no alternative but to attempt the work myself. I was just wondering gloomily if I would be able to get below ground before the bell rang for the change of shifts when there was a knock on the door of my hut.

“Come in!” I yelled, hoping it was Walter coming to tell me the work was within his province after all.

The door opened. A shadow fell across my untidy desk. I looked up.

“Good God!” I said, amazed. “What are you doing here?”

“Offering my services,” said Hugh, casually debonair in his best country tweeds. “You wouldn’t like a hand with the accounts, I suppose? I can promise you I’m exceedingly clever with money. I was wondering if you’d like to take me on as your assistant purser, chief clerk and general factotum.”

FOUR

Geoffrey* was married to Constance, the heiress of Brittany, and assumed the title of duke of that rugged corner of France … Eleanor had disliked her Breton daughter-in-law from the beginning.

—The Conquering Family,

THOMAS COSTAIN

The trouble with Geoffrey was that his honey-tongued eloquence was merely a top dressing on a scoundrelly hypocrisy. Roger of Howden can hardly mention his name without an epithet of abuse, and thought him the real trouble-maker among the brothers.

—King John,

W
. L. WARREN

“TRY ME,” SAID HUGH
. “I could learn what has to be learned. I’m not a fool.”

It was an attractive proposition. As soon as I had recovered from my astonishment I began to consider his offer seriously. To my reluctance I had been more and more involved with the business side of the mine since Walter Hubert had become too busy to cope with all the paperwork single-handed, but the more involved I became the more I realized that I hated to work in my office and grudged every second I was kept from the mine. But if I had Hugh to help Walter run the office, deal with the freight company, haggle with the middle men, supervise the payroll, cope with the insurance schemes and hack a path for the mine through the jungle of administration it was possible I could spend most of the working week down the mine with the tin. It would be more than pleasant to have Hugh take my place in dealing with the more boring aspects of management, and since Walter was no longer young Hugh could be trained to take over from him completely when he retired.

“I wouldn’t want much to start with,” said Hugh modestly. “Just enough to keep body and soul together.”

“How much do you have in mind?”

“How much are you prepared to spare?”

We looked at each other. I looked right into his innocent blue eyes and I knew. He was just out for what he could get. He would never understand that every penny of profit had to be plowed back into the mine to stoke it up into the best and safest mine in all Cornwall. As soon as Walter’s back was turned he would prey upon the profits, altering a figure here, a figure there, a figure somewhere else, and while he lived off the fat of the land my mine would be slowly choked to death in an economic noose.

I wondered what to say. I couldn’t tell him I didn’t trust him and suspected he was a dishonest adventurer out to line his own pocket as lavishly as he could. Nor could I admit that I thought he might outwit me even though I watched him like a hawk. I couldn’t say, “You’re much too crooked and much too clever and I don’t want to have anything to do with you.” On the other hand I didn’t want to lie about it either. As the silence lengthened I wondered why this situation had not arisen before; I had realized long ago that Hugh was untrustworthy. However, since I had never had to put him in a position of trust, the more unpleasant aspects of his personality had never bothered me. Our interests had not conflicted before, but now that they did I found myself placed in a situation which was not only damned difficult but damned embarrassing as well.

“Look, Hugh,” I said carefully at last, “I can’t really afford to put another man on the payroll at the moment.” That was true anyway. “The mine badly needs new equipment,” I said, warming to my theme, “and although Father has put capital into the mine in the past he’s always vowed not to put in a penny more, so we’re entirely dependent on the mine’s profits. We haven’t even been able to pay a dividend yet because we still need every penny we can make. I’m sorry.”

“I see,” he said, still pleasant and friendly. “Let me put it another way, and you may see the situation differently. You’re making money out of this mine. The mine pays you a salary. Papa and the other shareholders may not have made much so far but during the next few years it seems clear they’re assured of getting their money back plus more besides. In other words, regardless of how close to the red you are at this moment, there’s money in this mine and I don’t see why I shouldn’t join you and Papa in making a little profit out of the family business. After all, I’m Papa’s son, just as you are, and if you’re allowed to work here I don’t see why I should be turned away.”

“I don’t think you understand the position,” I said. “I need money for that mine.”

“I need money too,” he said. “I need money for my wife, and next June I’ll need money for a child as well.”

“Oh? That was quick work, wasn’t it?”

He looked at me. Some indefinable change in his expression put me on my guard.

“Is there anything wrong in conceiving a baby on one’s honeymoon?”

“You’ve only been married a couple of months,” I said. “You can’t blame me if I comment that it must have been a quick conception.”

“I suppose you think I’ve been sleeping with her ever since I came back from the war.”

“To be frank I couldn’t give a damn whether she was a virgin or not when you married her, but knowing you I shouldn’t think she was allowed to hold on to her virginity that long. Now about the mine—”

“She was a virgin.”

“If you say so.”

“And if you ever dare to make any slighting remark again about my wife—”

“All right, she was a virgin! For Christ’s sake, what does it matter anyway! She was a virgin and now she’s an expectant mother and you need money to finance your venture into fatherhood, and I’m sorry, I’d like to help you, but I can’t afford to put you on the payroll and that’s all there is to say.”

“I’m afraid not,” said Hugh politely. “I’m sorry you’re being so obtuse over this, I really am. I hoped we would be able to come to some amicable arrangement which would benefit us both, but I see I shall have to go to Papa after all and ask him to coax you into a more reasonable frame of mind.”

“Father! What the hell’s Father got to do with this?”

“I was under the impression he owned the mine—and sixty percent of the shares.”

I stood up. He stood up too. I clenched my fists and grabbed hold of my temper and kept calm. “Look, Hugh,” I said. “Let’s get one thing straight. I run this mine. I decide who goes on the payroll. I’m the boss.”

“Interesting. I’ll tęll Papa that. He might disagree with you.”

“My decisions are final! I’ll stand for no interference, and he knows that. If you think you can force yourself into this business and worm your way into the money—”

“It’s a family business and I’m entitled to a share. I hate to phrase it so crudely, but since you’re being so obtuse I see I shall have to spell it out for you: I want my cut and if you don’t give it to me I’ll make trouble for you. It’s as simple as that.”

“Why should Father listen to your complaints? You’re so much out of favor with him that he won’t even give you an allowance!”

“Papa will be impressed by my sincere wish to earn an honest living in the family business,” said Hugh, his voice syrup-smooth. “And how delighted he’ll be when he hears he’s going to be a grandfather! I wouldn’t even be surprised if he invited us to live at Penmarric and made his will in my favor. Since he has to leave his fortune to someone, why shouldn’t he favor the one son who’s married, settled, stable, hard-working, respectful, pleasant, anxious to please and thoroughly commendable in every possible way? There’s a lot of money to be made in this part of Cornwall, Philip, and if you weren’t so in love with a dirty old mine and content to live as an artisan you’d go chasing the money yourself instead of leaving me to pocket it from under your very nose. But your loss is my gain! If I play my cards carefully and all goes well, I’ll invite you to dinner when I’m master of Penmarric and maybe if you ask me nicely enough I’ll write you out a check to help support your godforsaken bloody mine!”

“Get out,” I said between my teeth. “Get out or I’ll throw you out. And never come back here again.”

“Do you think I don’t understand why you don’t want me at the mine? Do you think I don’t realize what’s going on in your mind? The mine comes first, doesn’t it, Philip? Every penny you possess, every drop of strength in your body and every ounce of ambition in your soul is sacrificed to that mine. You won’t even give your own brother a job and a salary because you can’t bear the thought of any sum, however small, being diverted from Sennen Garth. You’re not interested in anything except feeding and nurturing that bloody mine! You don’t have any vices not because you want to be pure but because that mine is every vice rolled into one. And what the hell is the mine anyway? A hole in the ground! A dark passage in the bowels of the earth! A sweating cavern a mile from the light of day! And for
that
I’m denied a job and the chance to work in the family business!”

“Well, of course I would hardly expect you to understand! You’re not a Cornish tinner. You don’t understand what the mine means and you never will.”

“Oh, come, Philip, you’re no more a Cornish tinner than I am! You’re just trying to satisfy some extraordinary obsession you have!”

“If you don’t believe I’m a true Cornish tinner born and bred you ask Alun Trevose or Willie Halloran—or any miner who’s ever worked alongside me! They’ll tell you! They know me and they know what I am!”

“And what are you?” said Hugh. “A cold-blooded bastard who surrounds himself with working-class men, lives with his mother and can’t even get bedded by the hottest whore between Land’s End and St. Ives.”

Other books

Never Go Home by L.T. Ryan
Long, Lonely Nights by Marla Monroe
Beautiful Boy by David Sheff
Game Without Rules by Michael Gilbert
Snowbound by Braden, MG
An Army of Good by K.D. Faerydae
Breakfast Served Anytime by Combs, Sarah